saudade and axel grease
by sleepersamizdat
Summary: Spy learns a secret about Helmet Party.


Dry but pleasant for once, the steadfast light of high noon cast a chiaroscuro under every rusty awning and dented oil drum that littered the workshop and testing ground of the Engineer. Hornets and wasps vied angrily with one another over prized territory near the broken glass of a bay window. A disturbance in the air turned into a whisper of smoke, then erupted into a billow tumbling out of seemingly nowhere as a hooded man's face appeared and moved through it. The murky cigarette brume swirled and fell around his shoulders and ran down the contours of his form as Spy emerged from his invisibility. His gate was loose but calculated in the harsh light. He pondered and rearranged the facts in his mind as he strolled towards the Engineer's workshop hangar. This most recent uncovering of events was going to take not only delicate discretion but also a bit more tech than he had at his disposal. He tapped the ash lightly and kicked it over in the dirt. There was no use lying to himself. This would take a _lot_ more _high_ tech than he had as his disposal. As he approached the corrugated steel building, he could hear the unmistakable sound of an arch welder spitting and popping. Electric blue flashes cut angrily against the ceiling visible from the hangar bay windows. Muffled pops and hisses of molten splattering echoed from within the cavernous mill. Spy knew the rod would run out eventually and with a little luck, he might be able to finish off his cigarette in that window. He stepped into the side corridor that Engie used to organize his spare parts and scrap metal. He peered testily into a coffee can full of fluid before making up his mind that the liquid wasn't flammable and tapped his ash into it. No use risking flash blindness when you could enjoy the remains of a fine tobacco instead.

Listening to the distant sounds of the welding and unfocusing his eyes against the calm of his cigarette, he let his mind wander. Spy knew everything there was to know about the mercs and then some. Nothing was ever really new to him as he not only did reconnaissance for his employer, but regularly made it a habit to do reconnaissance _on_ his employer. The extra insurance kept him on his toes and also protected his interests should things begin to head south. So, when it came to relying on the other mercs, he liked to have a level playing field. Most of the mercs he had pegged pretty well. He amused himself some days imagining the looks on the others faces if they knew the burns Pyro hid under the asbestos suit were actually damage from frostbite and not from heat or chemicals. He didn't even need to know Scout's story. It tumbled out of that loud mouth of his through his course accent. Never the less, Scout never told him about that fateful night in the May. His mother did.

The Engineer was a slightly different matter. Spy wouldn't say he was guarded around the Engineer but he definitely didn't underestimate him. It wasn't the fact that he had eleven doctorates. Anyone can be book smart and still act like a complete moron. The fact that Dell Conagher had on more than one occasion anticipated Spy's actions and never seemed to be caught off guard gave Spy reason to be cautious. Aside from his prodigy capabilities, everything else about him was unremarkable. He was originally from Bee Cave, Texas and the way he spoke and carried himself backed that up to a tee. His wife Irene Conagher and two kids, Emma and Saul, were just as typically unassuming-all-American as you could get. Spy guessed they were the reason the Engineer took the job. His file said they were swept from their house and killed when a tornado whipped through the small town. It was documented that Dell had custom built their house with a reinforced steel framing that could withstand an atomic bomb blast. The file said Dell was across town on a job site for a government contract when the storm struck. The wife and kids were in the house but the family dog was in the front yard. The Engineer's son had opened the door and ran out to retrieve the dog. His mother ran after him and the wind currents from the outside gale sucked the sister out with the rest. Nothing quite like a tragedy to encourage one to pack up and leave and try to numb the grief. In his working with the Engineer, Spy never observed any out of the ordinary sort of unrest in the man's actions. He had, however, witnessing the speed and efficiency with which the gunslinger was dispensed and it quelled most of his need to bring up the subject of the Engineer's previous family.

He flicked the dying smolder of his cigarette butt into the ash can. Retrieving the elegant silver case from his suit jacket, he selected another and began to tamp it against the case in preparation. A sudden sound of boot heals prompted him to step behind an old oil drum and drop cloak again. Spy hung back in the shadow of the barrels as the familiar form of Soldier approached. From the looks of it, Soldier was not in the best of moods.

Spy tried to keep his interaction with Jane Doe to a minimum. Jane's usual repartee consisted of willful ignorance and inane ranting without much range of variety in between. Fingering the cigarette in his hand, he decided against lighting it until Soldier had passed. He cursed in his head as he realized the Soldier was turning into the same corridor to visit the Engineer. From the safety of his invisibility he watched as Jane stomped up to the side entrance and then abruptly stopped. His fists were clenched and his hackles were up. Spy always thought he was wound too tight and that maybe the Soldier was a little too comfortable in the rigors of army life. He always seemed "on" and never really relaxed unless he was with the Demolition Man finishing off the bomber's ration of whiskey or sampling his newest recipe of shine. Spy found it mildly entertaining that the Engineer and the Demolition man liked to make shine as a hobby. On their off time, the two would blend thermodynamics, mechanical engineering, and chemistry to come up with some of the wildest ways to produce alcohol. Jane prided himself as being part of the group and Spy suspected they like to make him feel included by being the guinea pig for sampling the brew first. He had to admit; they could come up with some real mean concoctions. Some of them weren't half bad. Others were of questionable design but what's the use of a respawn unit if you don't get to utilize it on innovative gut rot?

As he got closer, Jane looked more irate than usual. Spy tracked his indecisive movements as Jane abruptly jerked to turn away, then back again, head through the entrance, then stop. Finally, he cast about angrily before spotting a mangled housing full of vacuum tubes. He seized a large one flung it wildly against the metal siding. A resounding bang and shattering noise filled the air and Spy could see Jane's teeth gritting as he reached for another. The sharp blue light that had been strobing off the ceiling ceased and the electric buzz of the arch welder stopped. Softly, Spy heard Engie exclaim, "What in the hell?" This seemed to unnerve Jane and he let go of the vacuum tube he was about to demolish; the anger in his face replaced by anxiety as if searching for some explanation as to why he was destroying Engie's equipment. As Spy heard the tell tale sounds of Engie's work boots approaching, Jane's face got redder underneath his helmet. He stumbled back against a massive rusty truck cab Engie had up on cinderblocks and sank down on the running board. To Spy's surprise, he started bawling like a five year old.

"Sol?"

Spy turned to see Engie shuffling out of the shadows in his welding leathers lugging a sizable pipe wrench. He slung it on top of an empty oil drum with a loud clatter. His face was covered in sweat and grit and his neck was burnt from exposure to the arch. The face shield sat comically atop his head. Dell's face was anything but funny. Spy didn't know why Engie would wear smoked glass goggles on top of a face shield but he supposed that Engie probably didn't weld with just any arch welder. He was always souping up their equipment one way or another. Genuine concern was etched on Dell's face. Out of all the other mercs, Spy took note of the way Dell always handled Jane with delicacy. Amazingly, Dell seemed to be the only one to be able to do that. Spy had seen on more that one occasion how Dell's easygoing mannerism seemed to telegraph to Jane and Jane always seemed less alarmist around him.

Spy watched as Dell pulled off his leather glove and his yellow rubber glove. He hitched up his grease-stained overalls and sat down next to Jane.

"Sol? What's goin' on, son? Whutcha so upset about?" He laid his robotic hand on Jane's back. Jane just kept bawling into his hands. "I see yer help'n me get rid of the tubes out that old respawn prototype."

Jane just kept crying and Engie sighed and pulled him into a hug as he patted his back. Finally, Jane slumped over against Dell and let his hands fall.

"I was fight'n with Scout because he took the last of the sour cream and I needed it for Lt. Bites. I forgot to put in for it on the last order and the next delivery ain't for three days. I tried to get it back but Scout was too quick! I done messed up the mess hall pretty bad try'n to break Scout's neck and now everyone's mad at me. Scout said I was a "Grade-A fuck up" and that "my dad must've pissed in my mom to make me." An' now I ain't got noth'n to feed Lt. Bites an' I broke some-uh your stuff too, an'. . .an'. . ." Jane devolved into thick choking tears.

"Aw, c'mon Sol. You know that kid was just spewing shit like he always does."

Jane hiccupped, "I-It's true. She ain't never wanted me. She wanted a girl. Army didn't want me neither. Ain't nobody want me! Now Lt. Bites ain't gonna want me neither!

"Aw, now Sol, you know better'n to listen to Scout. That boy has no room to talk. You know he don't know his ass from apples half the time. Just yesterday the idiot let Sniper convince him that possum musk was the main ingredient in Spanish fly. You should've seen the look on Ms. Pauling's face." and Dell began to chuckle.

Jane still chocked back tears and Dell squeezed him closer to his side. "Sol. C'mon, Sol. Don't let'm get to ya. Here," he reached up and gently removed Jane's helmet and placed it bowl down in Jane's lap. Jane instinctively hugged it to him as Dell dug into his overalls to whip out a semi clean rag. He patted Jane's back as he gently dried his cheeks and gave him encouragement. Over and over again in that warm southern drawl he would say Jane's abbreviated title while coaxing him to calm down.

What investment does the Engineer have in this lunatic that he would care so much? Spy couldn't really place the strange relationship.

Until now.

His eyes widened and if he had lit that cigarette he had been holding, it would have fallen from his parted lips. It struck him. Whether it was conscious or not, Dell wasn't saying Sol. He was saying Saul. Whether he knew it or not, Dell was offering all the consolation a father would to a son. Mon dieu! He would never admit to anyone how it made his heart break.

When Dell had finished wiping Jane's face dry, he put the rag to Jane's nose. "C'mon. Giv'er a honk." and Jane blew his nose. Without blinking an eye, Jane tossed the soiled rag over his shoulder and clapped Jane on the back.

"Don't you listen to Scout. He's just a scared puppy in a lot full'a dogs. But you listen ta this, I wantcha and I can't go round hav'n you think yer not worth noth'n round here. Yer ma best buddy and I'd be real tore up if anything happened to ya. Okay?" he squeezed Jane's shoulder and slapped him on the back. "Now listen, I got a real important mission, okay? It just so happens I dropped a mean ass retooled big block in ol' Sally here and I been itchn' to wip'er feet on some black top. I happen to know there's a new BigMart a few towns over that sells sour cream by the 30 gallon drum. You wanna go check it out and we can stop on the way for some hot dogs and beer?"

Immediately, Jane's face lit up like it was Christmas. "Are you SERIOUS?! That's enough to feed Lt. Bits AND the maggot platoon!"

"Aw'right then. It's a go. How 'bout you grab summuh them stogies you got squirreled away and we'll smoke a few on the way down?"

"YES SIR!" Solly roared and hopped up to beat a path back to his footlocker.

Dell watched him go with an elbow on one propped up knee and a soft grin on his face. Spy prayed for Engie to get up and go back to the workshop so he could stir the blood flow in his legs.

"So, watcha got for me, Spah?" Dell said, not moving his gaze.

Spy stepped into the afternoon sunlight as his cloak melted away, casually tamping the cigarette against his cigarette case. "How is it you do not want to pursue the vocation of spy, labourer? It seems you are excellent at the detection, no?"

Dell turned his head to him now with a smile. Spy could see no embarrassment on his face. In fact, Spy could swear Dell appeared more at ease than ever. "My personality is too open. I ain't much for the back stabb'n ya know. Got no problem blow'n yer head off, though."

"Seriously, mon ami. How is it that you knew I was there? I do not see any sensors. Nano-sensors perhaps?"

Dell considered him a bit before snorting a laugh, "Naw, son. Echolocation. Funny thing I picked up as a kid. Terrified of the dark ya know. So I started listening for the boogey man. 'Fore I knew it, I could tell when the air shifted in a room. I could tell the air sounded "solid" around you. But let's keep that little secret between us. I know you're good at keep'n secrets." Then his expression got stern, "He's a good man, ya know. He just got broke over the years and he's got a ton of misdirection. But he's got a good heart. Lotta people don't see that."

Spy took a drag off his much-awaited cigarette. Then, he weighed divulging his proposition of collaboration for this latest mission against delaying this discussion until the "maggot platoon" had been provisioned with 30 gallons of the cheapest sour cream money could buy.


End file.
